A Trick of Perspective
by Ancalime8301
Summary: Holmes solves a case involving a photograph and Watson marvels at the technique used.


Written for the LiveJournal community Watsons_Woes for their July Writing Prompts challenge. The prompt for day 8 was: _Forced perspective: Either use the concept in your story, or find an image that uses this technique and use it as the basis for the story._

* * *

_A Trick of Perspective_

"So I insisted upon a photograph before I gave them so much as a pence-I am not a wealthy woman and they were asking a goodly sum of money." The matron pulled a book from her handbag, and from this she extricated the photograph. "This is what I was given."

Holmes appeared intrigued as he studied the image.

Our client continued, "As you can see, it appears that the statue is life-sized, unlike the one I was given." I glanced again at the statuette on the table next to Holmes. It was a well-made imitation of a nude in the Greek style, but certainly not worth the three thousand pounds she had paid.

"What I ask you to determine is the whereabouts of the statue pictured there. If it cannot be restored to me, well, the return of my money would be most welcome but I suspect those scoundrels are gone without a trace."

"Most likely," Holmes agreed absently, still inspecting the picture. "I will look into the matter, Mrs. Harrison. Expect to hear from me within three days. I will return these belongings when the matter is resolved."

I took that as my cue and ushered her out, leaving Holmes to the photograph. When I returned, he was still examining it, but now he was holding the statuette. I stood behind him and peered over his shoulder to have my first glimpse of the image: a bearded man stood next to a statue in what seemed to be a large hall. The statue was the very image of the smaller one in Holmes' hand.

Holmes abruptly stood and took the figure and the photograph to his desk. I left him to his thoughts.

.

The next morning Holmes had a camera and spent hours in his room muttering to himself. I was perplexed but knew there was no point in asking.

When he emerged for supper, he appeared disgruntled and cast the photograph on the table as if it offended him. "What do you see in this photograph?" he asked irritably.

I was surprised by the question and looked over it again, but I saw just what I had the first time. "A bearded man standing next to a large statue in what seems to be a long hall," I said uncertainly.

Holmes stared at me for a long moment, then picked up the image. From the abrupt change in his expression, I could tell he'd had some breakthrough, but of what sort I could not imagine.

"You are a conductor of light, my dear Watson," he said, rising from the table. "I must go beg a favor from my brother."

He disappeared and left me astonished.

.

After breakfast the next morning, Holmes requested that I accompany him on an outing and appointed me to carry the statuette and a small table while he hefted a large bag. He would not tell me where we were going, but we disembarked at Whitehall. Holmes led me into and through a building until we emerged in a large room of the sort used for official occasions. It was a remarkable room, illuminated by electric lights.

The bag proved to hold a camera. Holmes assembled it and set the statuette on the table in front of it. Then it was my turn to be placed. "Now, Watson, walk straight away from me until I tell you to stop," Holmes directed before ducking under the hood of the camera.

I went slowly, uncertain how soon I would be told to stop, and it seemed I'd crossed half the room before Holmes called out, "Turn around and stay right there, my good man."

It seemed an agonizingly long time before I was allowed to move again, but it was probably no more than a few minutes. All we did after that was pack everything up again; I returned to Baker Street while Holmes went on his own way, probably to return the camera to its rightful owner.

Holmes burst into the sitting room just before teatime, holding a square of paper aloft. He was almost gleeful when he presented it to me and said, "Tell me, Watson, what do you think?"

I could not believe my eyes. There I was, appearing to stand next to a life-sized version of the statuette on the sideboard. "How on earth is this possible?" I asked, dumbfounded.

"A mere trick of perception," Holmes said grandly. "The size of objects can be manipulated using distance, provided that there is no interference like shadows."

I could not believe it, despite having been present for the creation of the image. "So there is no larger statue?" I asked, remembering our client's requests.

"There is no larger statue," Holmes confirmed.

Mrs. Harrison did not get either of the outcomes she'd hoped for, as the perpetrators of the ruse had fled the country, but she was fascinated by Holmes explanation of the photograph. In the end, her unsatisfying encounter led her to a whole new career, for she began studying cameras and photography. The last time she was mentioned in the newspaper, it was saying that she had launched a photography group that specialized in unusual types of photographs and experimented with the new moving pictures.

Whenever I look at that remarkable picture of me with the statuette, I wonder what other tricks and manipulations are used on the photographs that are increasingly appearing all around. I usually decide that I don't really want to know.


End file.
